


A Slave through the Eyes of the Master

by for_darkness_shows_the_stars



Series: Potentiam Tuam Sanguinem [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin bby I'm so sorry, Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, Jedi Padawans are jerks, Palpatine is a dick, Skywalkers are eldritch horrors I'm sorry I don't make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-24 01:08:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23767906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_darkness_shows_the_stars/pseuds/for_darkness_shows_the_stars
Summary: The Jedi are blind.Not only are they oblivious to their ancient enemy plotting and scheming their ultimate downfall right under their noses, but also to the treasure that rests in their very Temple.Fortunately, the ancient enemy is there to make use of it.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious & Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader
Series: Potentiam Tuam Sanguinem [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711054
Comments: 5
Kudos: 98
Collections: Eldritch Star Wars





	A Slave through the Eyes of the Master

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a retelling of the infamous scene from the Obi-Wan and Anakin comic, so  
> a) none of it is mine, please Disney, I'm just a poor soul trying to get some validation from strangers on the Internet  
> b) SPOILERS
> 
> Enjoy!!!

**A Slave through the Eyes of the Master**

Darth Sidious stands on a balcony overlooking a duelling ring with Windu and Kenobi, hands folded neatly into the heavy sleeves of his Naboo-style robe, eyes fixed on a match plays out below.

The sounds of clashing lightsabers grow louder and louder as both the practice droid and young Skywalker grow more confident. The boy’s cerulean blade swoops in a majestic arc, so fast that even Sidious’s eyes can barely follow its path. The youngling’s brow is furrowed, blue eyes set with determination.

His skill is astounding, especially considering the short time he’s been training.

“I see that the boy has taken an interest in the lightsaber, Master Windu,” he observes idly, probing for the revered Jedi’s reaction.

“As always, Chancellor Palpatine,” Windu replies, his lips slanted into a thin, cruel line, “you are a master of understatement.”

Skywalker hears them, even from so far away. Sidious can tell; the youngling allows his focus to divert to the trio on the balcony for a fraction of a second, a move that would have cost a lesser swordsman the match.

He’s impressed. Heightened senses are a norm for Force-sensitives, yes, but not many would be proficient enough to hear a whisper, especially when in the middle of a duel.

Greed rears its ugly head, hatching onto Sidious’s mind like a limpet, burying its sharp claws into his heart.

_Yes, young one, you shall be mine._

Then, _something_ happens, and the practice droid transforms. Sidious is looking at a holographic image of his late apprentice, Maul, complete with sharp coronal horns and a double-bladed lightsaber firmly in his grasp.

Sidious feels his eyes widen, and his lips stretch into a smile _, the_ smile, that no-one is meant to see, least of all the Jedi … yet.

He looks at young Skywalker, whirling and dodging and slashing with unnatural ease. There’s talent here, yes, but also hard word.

Eager, no, _desperate_ to please. Sidious could almost purr with satisfaction.

“What is he _doing?”_ Windu, the fool, hisses. “Is that …”

“Anakin’s been asking me about my fight with the Sith on Naboo—very detailed questions … but I assumed it was just natural curiosity,” Kenobi is quick to defend.

“Come now, my Jedi friends,” Sidious tells them, and not even he can keep the note of pleasure from his voice. “A boy his age, altering a training droid this in way, simply to impress his teachers? I would say that is more than unexpected. I would call it …” he watches as the youngling, with a Force-assisted leap, flips over the holo-Maul, “ _impressive._ ”

And then the droid makes a mistake, and young Skywalker whips his saber towards its waist, effectively slicing it in half.

For a moment, Sidious reaches deep into the swirls of the Force, and he looks at the boy trough it. What he sees steals the breath from his lungs.

The youngling simply _is_ on several plains of existence at once, his form constantly shifting, eager to escape its mortal confines. He has wings and claws and countless eyes, his blood is acid, radiation oozes out of his eyes.

He is beautiful, and terrifying.

And if the Jedi Council weren’t a gaggle of stuck-up, arrogant _idiots_ with their heads so far up their own arses that even sticking a lightsaber there wouldn’t help them see further along than the length of their own noses, they would see it too.

He is as much human as Sidious is Jedi.

Sidious watches him stalk over to the droid’s smoking and sizzling remains, when the hushed voices of other Padawans reach his senses.

“He may be good with a lightsaber, but that doesn’t mean he’ll make a good Jedi,” a dark-haired human boy whispers to his Duros friend. Sidious could almost believe him, were it not for the obvious jealousy that drips from his voice.

“No,” the Duros agrees, and this time, Sidious really wonders who they think they’re fooling. The Duros’s force-presence is a seething hot mess of envy, half-hidden behind sloppy shields. “After all, he’s just a _slave_ to his emotions. It’s obvious.”

“Exactly,” the human growls, happy to have affirmation. “Just a slave.”

Inwardly, Sidious gloats. Yes, yes, let them speak, let them grumble. Let them alienate the youngling. Let him know this place, where they fear and envy his power, is not for him.

Especially when there is Sidious to offer him something else.

Suddenly, the two Padawans’ lightsabers detach from their belt and sizzle to life, glowing tips pointed at their throats.

Young Skywalker stands before them, one hand raised in a claw-like gesture, mouth a thin line.

“What are you …” the human stammers, but the youngling cuts him off.

“Tell me,” he says, voice tight and cold. “What emotion are you feeling right now?”

 _Delicious._ _Yes, yes, little one, let that anger flow._

Next to Sidious, Kenobi leaps down from the balcony. “Anakin, _enough_ ,” he thunders.

Sidious can both see and feel the moment when the youngling’s wonderful defiance melts, and his shoulders slump. The two Padawans’ lightsabers shut down. “Master, I—”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says to the Padawans, offering them their sabers. “Please, accept my apology.”

“You …” the Duros says shakily, “of course. Forget it.”

“It seems young Skywalker’s training is far from complete,” Sidious tells Windu, and he has to employ all his decades of political activity to hide the triumphant gleam in his eyes.

“His education is … complicated,” Windu says disdainfully. “He came to us later than we would ordinarily have liked.” He purses his lips. “Obi-Wan took on an extremely difficult task when he accepted Anakin as his Padawan.”

_Yes, yes …_

“Send him to me,” Sidious suggests. Oh, this is too good of an opportunity to pass. “I may be able to help. It may not look like it,” he adds, with his finest grandfatherly smile, “but I was once his age, and I feel a special connection to the boy after his assistance with the Naboo blockade some years ago.”

Windu stiffens. “Thank you, Chancellor,” he says, thought his tone does not match the civility of his words, “but I am sure Obi-Wan has it well in hand.”

Sidious casts a quick gaze down, to Kenobi. He stands, his hands crossed across his chest, saying something Sidious doesn’t bother to listen. Next to him, young Skywalker stands, looking ever so small and repentant, blue eyes full of shame and bitterness. In the Force, his sun-bright presence has dulled, painting everything around him into shades of grey.

Ah yes, well in hand indeed.

He turns back to Windu, and lets some _Sidious_ into his grin. “Why, young Skywalker is a Jedi, is he not?”

Windu narrows his eyes, but doesn’t interrupt. Clever man, something that can’t be said for many of his Order.

“The Jedi are under the Senate’s jurisdiction, are they not?” Sidious continues idly. “And as I am the Chancellor of the Senate …”

He lets the threat hang in the air.

Windu’s lip curls, but he, clever as he is, relents. “Of course, Chancellor.”

“I knew we’d come to an agreement,” Sidious says, and casts one last look at Anakin.

 _Yes, youngling, you will be mine. And I will crush you, and destroy you, and shatter you, and have you beg me to build you up again … and when I do … I will make of you a weapon worthy of the Sith_.

_~~(And so he did, but overconfidence was always his greatest weakness. Too bad he hadn’t realized it until it was too late, and he was already plummeting to his death. No-one can keep the child of the Force chained forever.)~~ _

**Author's Note:**

> Palpatine is a dick 2k20


End file.
